The Beating of His Hideous Heart
by AutumnBlade
Summary: Hinata is a strong shinobi, if a gentle one, and an asset to Konoha. But even after willing herself to become stronger she still feels an emptiness inside, an emptiness that is identical to that inside of a certain Uchiha...description inside  *ItaHina
1. Warmth

Description: Hinata is a strong shinobi, if a gentle one, and an asset to Konoha. But even after willing herself to become stronger she still feels an emptiness inside, an emptiness that is identical to that inside of a certain Uchiha Itachi. When their two worlds collide, Hinata finds herself madly in love with this man despite his dark and criminal past. But does he love her with the same intensity? Or is he only using her for his own twisted games?

ItaHina

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

_In such a cruel and evil world as this, why is it that we live? For what is it that we live? I cannot understand the will of some; to face such a hideous world with a face of golden courage. I cannot understand it, not in the least. But still, even with a mind of such confusion, there still bears a small trickle of comfort. Where is such comfort found when all the world is glass and rocks? Where can one rest and sleep without fear of being devoured? Where is solace in the storm? Where is air in the smoke? It is where it has always been and always will be; in the warm glowing soul of another._

_*Anbu Officer Korune note* Page 62 of the diary of Hyuuga Hinata, released for review by the Hokage as for determining the cause of her death._

Chapter One: Warmth

Lady Fifth regarded the paper on her desk with a sick sort of dread. It had been a little over a year since Hinata had passed, yet any mention of her still caused a stir of old grief within her heart, as it did with all of the citizens of Konoha. Nevertheless, she had to do her job. She allowed her eyes to roam over the page of Hinata's diary that had been sent to her that morning. She was supposed to review it to see if there were any clues as to who could have killed her, or—a possibility that the villagers had often whispered about—if it was suicide. Tsunade felt the weight of the girl's family on her shoulders as she realized that there was no hidden meaning on this diary page. It was yet another dead end, another rousing of ill-placed hope. She would let the Hyuuga's down, again. They had been counting on her to find out the causes of the heiresses death, especially since there was a possibility that it may have been murder. It was likely that the reason they wanted to know so badly was so that they could hunt down and kill the culprits. It _was_ something that the Hyuuga's would do. But whatever their reasons, they had a right to know the truth.

Only, the problem was that the truth was nowhere to be found. Not on this diary page, not anywhere. Tsunade had been searching tirelessly for an answer to the question everyone had been silently asking since that winter a year ago. She had been informed by an anbu officer that Hyuuga Hinata had been discovered, unconscious in the east woods. She heard the urgency and worry in the officer's voice, and ordered them to bring the girl to her office at once. She dismissed his arguments about hospitals and the ICU. The hospitals didn't have near the healing ability that she possessed herself. If Hinata was going to have a fighting chance, she needed to be brought to the Hokage tower ASAP. She ordered him to hurry.

But for some reason Tsunade had a creeping worry that it would be too late to do anything. She hoped that her concerns were simply paranoia as Hinata was carried into her private office. This office wasn't the one that she used for official village business. This one was located just below the ground floor of the Hokage tower and was filled with cots and bottles of serums that cluttered the shelves like dust. It was the office that she used to personally treat patients. It was kept a secret because, in Danzo's words: "You're healing fascination is a distraction from fully fulfilling your duties as Hokage. If you're so compelled to be a healer, maybe you should resign and surrender the job to someone more focused."

_Like hell I will_, she thought fiercely as she radiated healing ninjutsu into the girl's chest. After a few minutes, she cut to apply a serum to Hinata's throat and chest that was supposed to increase blood and air flow. Then she picked up the jutsu again. It continued in this succession for three hours before Tsunade finally gave up. By then even she could see the uselessness in her actions. She remembered feeling her determination fade into a deep and cold sadness like jumping into an icy lake; paralyzing, terrifying, and hopeless. Hinata was dead.

Tsunade was roused from her sad relocations by the door to her office cracking open. A point of silver hair made it's way inside followed by Hatake Kakashi.

"Lady Tsunade," he acknowledged in that sleepy tone of his. He took a spot on the back wall, leaning lazily against it and crossing his arms.

"Kakashi." She answered tiredly. She returned the diary page to the envelope and got to work readdressing it back to the Hyuuga compound.

"So, did you find anything out from the diary page?"

"No. Nothing."

Instead of answering Kakashi closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall as if he were about to drift off to sleep. Tsunade started to get annoyed at his rude display of insubordination, but then he suddenly spoke. "I don't think it was suicide."

Tsunade blinked in surprise. "I didn't say anything about suicide."

"Yes," he said in knowing voice. He rolled his head to his right to face her. "but you were thinking it. I don't believe that Hinata was selfish enough to do something like that. That girl was the least selfish person I ever met."

"That's true." Tsunade said very softly. That old familiar wave of grief hit her again. It always crept up on her when she least expected it. She took in a deep breath to help control her emotions. She had to remain composed. "I don't think that it was suicide either."

Kakashi didn't give a response right away. He simply stood with his arms crossed and his eyes closed, but not tiredly this time. He seemed to be thinking hard about something. After a few slow minutes ticked by he spoke up again.

"I think she was killed." He said this with such unexpected certainty and seriousness that Tsunade was struck speechless. It was a bold accusation.

"You sound a little irritated at that." She said after she'd gathered herself.

Kakashi frowned—it was a gesture only the most perceptive to his behaviors could catch because the action was hidden by the mask he never removed. "Isn't it normal to be irritated by the concept of someone murdering one of our own? One of our kids?"

"You didn't seem to care nearly as much about Hinata _that_ day." Tsunade said dryly.

Kakashi lowered his eyes, looking sullen. She knew that she was right, and he knew that she was right. That day a year ago, when Hinata had been pronounced dead to the village and her family, Kakashi seemed to be the only one not upset. He actually appeared not to care at all. A fact that drove Naruto crazy.

"Regardless," Kakashi said firmly, dismissing the subject. "Murder does seem like the only logical answer. The medic nins couldn't find anything wrong with her, right? No internal problems or illnesses."

"That's right," Tsunade had to admit. Medics had searched her system thoroughly but could find nothing that would cause such a sudden and unannounced death. Even going in, they'd hardly expected to find anything. Diseases that took lives so quickly usually had symptoms. But Hinata had none. "But murder? It seems like were jumping the gun a bit."

Kakashi furrowed his brow and gazed at her intently as if she'd missed some terribly obvious truth. "She's was a shinobi. Death by murder is almost the guaranteed way to die. You're letting your attachments to her blind you from the obvious. Any other person would have figured by now that she was probably killed by a rouge ninja or an Akatsuki. It's almost certain that that's what happened. I don't believe you can't see that by now. All the jonin are pretty much certain of it, but they all think that the reason you haven't acknowledged the fact yet is because you don't want the Hyuuga clan to act recklessly. But I know better. You're deluding yourself, Tsunade."

Tsunade continued addressing the envelope calmly as if she were unfazed by Kakashi's accusations. But she couldn't fool him. He'd been around her too long not to notice the way her fingers trembles as she wrote or how she couldn't stop sucking in her cheeks.

"Tsunade," Kakashi began gently. "I know that this is hard on you because of what Naruto said—"

_Snap._

The pen that Tsunade had been writing with broke into two with a loud and disturbing crack. Ink spilled over her hand like blood and onto her desk, ruining at least fifty documents that were scatter about its surface in the process. Tsunade made no move to indicate that she noticed. She only pressed her lips together hard as if to keep herself from saying something vulgar. She kept her breath steady, remaining carefully calm and looked up at the jonin slowly.

"I know. I shouldn't have brought that up. I'm sorry." Kakashi said quickly.

Tsunade narrowed her eyes. The color of them made her look like a cat—a ferocious and dangerous cat ready to pounce and kill the moment her prey showed any sign of weakness.

"I, of all people, don't have any right to bring it up after what happened that night,"

_Waiting_

"and I know that you really took all of that stuff he said to heart,"

_Waiting_

"but Tsunade, he was overreacting just a bit."

_Pounce._

"So you think that he wasn't justified in what he said? You think that this _wasn't_ all my fault? That if I had just listened to him instead of assuming that he was _overreacting_ that Hinata wouldn't be dead right now? You say that I'm deluded in this Kakashi, but you're the deluded one. You didn't trust the judgment of your own student and neither did I. It's that unnecessary doubt that caused this tragedy in the first place. And now, after all that's happened, after all that that _doubt_ has put this village through, you stand there and tell me that he was overreacting? Do you know that he begged me to look for her? Did you know that, Kakashi? He _begged_ me and I dismissed him. I saw all the worry in his eyes, how frantic he was, and I still turned him away. And now you're saying—"

"This isn't you fault, Tsunade."

"Like hell it isn't!" she yelled and stood up from her chair abruptly, causing it to fall backwards and clatter on the floor behind her. She scowled at the silver-haired ninja baring to him all of the emotions that had been sloshing around inside of her for a year. All of the sadness, and pity, and anger, and _guilt._ All of it. She lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper as if she were speaking only to herself. "Like hell it isn't."

Fourteen Months Ago

"Itachi? What are you still doing here?" Kisame's voice called from the doorway behind him with a hint of annoyance in his tone. They were supposed to be long on their way back to the Lair, but Itachi had insisted that they stay longer at the hotel—in the province that was nestled on the southern border of the Rain Village—than they had originally intended. He wouldn't tell why he'd made the decision to stay longer, but that didn't bother Kisame. What did bother him was that now, on the day that they had both agreed would be the end of their stay, Itachi was still lingering behind.

"Maybe you should go on ahead," Itachi said softly as he peered out of the curtain of the hotel window.

"What? Are you crazy or what? Come on, let's go before the others start to get suspicious that we abandoned them or something."

Itachi continued to gaze out of the window with something like desperation in his eyes. But after a while he allowed the curtain fall from his fingers. "Alright." He said.

Kisame gave him a strange sideways look and gestured toward the door. But even as they were making their exit, shooting their way through the forest's branches, Itachi still had that desperate look in his eyes. However, Kisame wasn't about to try and decipher it. If there was one thing he had learned about Itachi after all these years, it was that his moods were complex and random. He could easily go from calm, to angry, to distant in under an hour. His mood swings annoyed the hell out of Kisame at first, but he'd gotten use to them. He assumed that this was just another one of Itachi's many faces.

But Kisame was still put out at the thought of having to deal with a depressed Itachi for the four days it would take them to get back up to the Mist.

"Kisame," Itachi asked calmly. It seemed as if his depression had vanished as quickly as it had set in. His sudden change in attitude would have staggered another person, but not Kisame.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I was wondering of we could maybe take a detour."

Kisame groaned. "Were already late."

"I know," Itachi snapped with irritated anger coating his voice. Another face; one that Kisame did not like to see but often appeared without warning. "I just want to pick something up in Konoha. Something that I left behind when I left."

"When you left?" Kisame asked confused. "you mean seven years ago?"

Itachi didn't respond but Kisame could tell that his guess was correct.

"But why now?" Kisame asked with even greater confusion. This level of mysteriousness was new for Itachi.

"Why not now? I'm not in the mood to discuss this, Kisame. I'm going. Whether you choose to follow or not, doesn't matter much to me." He veered right and headed off in the direction of Konoha.

"Cryptic bastard," Kisame muttered. He skidded to a halt and took off after him, not about to face the Akatsuki missing his partner.

Critical eyes.

Hinata fought hard to suppress the blush that was creeping onto her face. But the task proved harder than she expected with all of the people watching her, judging her. She hated more than anything to be looked upon judgingly. But in this particular case it was necessary. She needed to stop fighting herself and focus if she was ever going to catch up to Naruto; she needed to pass this exam.

Hinata sized up her enemy notably. A small girl with more muscles in her legs than in her arms; steady coordination but not much power. She also had impossibly long hair that fell to her calves in shiny black sheets. Hinata thought of how impractical that must be. It was certain to get in the way in battle, or to block her vision every now and then. She figured she would use that factor to her advantage. The girl seemed angry, too, her eyes scowling and fists clenching and unclenching in succession. This was another significant fact that perhaps someone who wasn't a Hyuuga wouldn't have noticed. It was in the Hyuuga nature to assess peoples thoughts based on their body language. The girl's angry stance hinted toward an impulsive nature. Once she was provoked, she acted without thinking. If Hinata could toy with her long enough in their battle, she'd eventually lose it, giving Hinata a large margin.

"_The fourth and final battle of the chunin exams begins. __Hyuuga Hinata verses Senpachi Miito." _The announcer's voice tolled, silencing the hum of the crowd and throwing them into anticipation.

Hinata felt herself start to blush again at the mention of her name. But she ignored her embarrassment and focused on figuring out a strategy. Her opponent, Miito, didn't waste any time. No sooner had the announcer's voice faded did she lunge with what looked to Hinata like a murderous intent. She hurriedly side stepped her charge. The girl stumbled, unable to stop her momentum in time, but recovered quickly. She barreled back toward Hinata again, this time with much more accuracy. Hinata couldn't avoid the kick that swept her feet out from under her in one smooth motion. She fell backward hard and was pinned down by Miito's foot on her chest.

I can't be hesitant, she thought, what would I do if Naruto was watching me? I have to be strong.

She reached up to grab Miito by the leg that was holding her down and twisted it, causing her to spin down and allowing Hinata to flip her over so that she could pin her down with her knees to her back. She couldn't hold her down long. The girl wriggled wildly, signaling that if Hinata didn't let her up soon she'd regret it. But Hinata made sure to hit the girls chakra points while she was still restrained so that even when she got up, she would still be injured.

After Miito started cursing rather loudly Hinata let her up. She backed away quickly anticipating that as angry as she was, she was going to attack immediately. Her anticipations were justified when Miito spun around to take a swipe at her. Her eyes were glazed over with rage.

I shouldn't attack her so closely, Hinata thought as she watched Miito get to her feet. She's much to wild. I should attack from far away. Hinata backed away a few more step and drew a hand full of shuriken from her holder. She waited for Miito to stager into her line of fire before shooting the handful of stars at her. Miito, despite having her kidney and liver assaulted with the gentle fist, was quick to doge the projectiles. But she was breathing hard. She could barely evade the last star that whizzed by her head and took off a small chunk of jet black hair in its path. Miito gasped. She froze and stared at the slivers of hair that were littered around her feet. She reached up slowly to finger the place where the hair had previously been.

It wasn't that bad. It really wasn't. Hinata could only just barely tell that a sixth of the girl's hair was two feet shorter than the rest, but it was obvious that Miito noticed. She was starting to shake. Her fingers lowered from the space where her hair used to be and clenched into a fist by her side. Then she turned slowly to her left and shot Hinata a look of pure venom.

Hinata knew that she was about to charge. She hurried and preformed the signs to activate her byakugan. Miito let out a horrified shriek that made the audience wince. Hinata quickly spread her legs apart and set one hand in front of herself just as Miito entered her circle of reach.

_Rotation. _A large push of violet chakra swirled around Hinata as she spun at high-speed in the divination twirl. Miito was from the Rain, a small devastated village that kept to themselves and didn't dabble in other village affairs. Most of the Rain shinobi knew nothing of the Hyuuga bloodline and Miito seemed to be included in that group. She was flung back immediately by the practically impenetrable chakra shield that the Hyuuga's were so famous for and hit the far wall hard. But she bounced back almost instantly, as if she were unfazed. But she wasn't fooling anyone. She was staggering, barley able to stand up straight, and breathing so hard she was practically hyperventilating. She was clutching her side, like she was finally feeling those gentle fist attacks that Hinata had inflicted on her earlier. She looked like she'd used up most of her stamina, too.

Hinata smiled to herself. Her plan was working. Now that Miito was slower Hinata could approach her with a direct attack. But still, it would be better if she had some other advantage. So instead of charging her head on she ran around the perimeter of the tournament arena towards her. She advanced on the side she was injured on so that she didn't notice her at first. But once she did Hinata was already well within striking range, too close for Miito to react in any sort of defense.

_Eight Trigram Two Palms. _She shot two strikes of chakra powered energy into Mitto's injured side causing her to wince and droop to her knees. She struggled to get air into her lungs as Hinata attacked her the second time.

_Four palms_

_ Eight palms_

_ Sixteen palms_

_ Thirty-two palms_

_ Sixty-four palms. _By the time she'd finished her assault Miito was practically unconscious. Hinata felt bad when she watched the girl struggle to get to her knees. Her arms were trembling so badly that she couldn't get farther then a few inches off the ground before falling back down. She was probably in a lot of pain. Seeing her wince on the ground and watching the blood drip from between her lips, it made Hinata feel a cold guilt. She didn't have to hurt her _that_ badly, did she?

The sun shone off Miito's forehead protector and flashed in Hinata's eyes. A Rain forehead protector. Hinata realized that Miito's life was probably more unpleasant than she could imagine living in such a poor and ravaged village. Very few shinobi ever entered the inter-village chunin exams from the Rain, too many of the children were orphaned and didn't attend ninja academy. Miito had to be really lucky to have the opportunity, and not only that, but despite her definite hardships she was still able to obtain the level of skill necessary to pass the first two parts of the exam. She had to have had some real ability to achieve that. It was just the crap of the draw that Miito had to go up against a shinobi with a bloodline. It was almost cruel that she'd worked so hard to come so far only to be shattered now by the unforgiving hand of fate.

"_Senpachi Miito is unable to continue, winner Hyuuga Hinata."_

A chorus of cheers arose from the audience, the loudest of which was probably Kiba's. Hinata looked into the crowd to see that he was standing with his hands cupped around his mouth to project his voice, like he needed any aid _projecting._

"Go Hinata-chan! I knew you could do it!" he yelled so loudly that poor Shino, who happened to have the unfortunate pleasure of sitting next to him, cringed and covered his ears.

Hinata smiled and blushed at the sudden flood of attention and praise. She was happy despite herself. But she wasn't out in the clear just yet. The judges still needed to decide whether she was worthy to be a chunin. She pressed her hands together, suddenly nervous, and looked down. Had her fighting skill been good enough? She'd just have to wait and see.

Hinata found herself sitting at Ichiruka Ramen counter next to Kiba and Shino later that afternoon. They still hadn't announced the chunin choices yet so she was antsy. But she tried to be good company and keep up with Kiba's unwavering conversation. She nodded and smiled politely whenever her looked her way, but her mind was elsewhere. If she didn't become a chunin now she'd have to wait a whole other year to retake the exam. She'd be farther behind Naruto than ever. And—she blushed to think of it—she wanted to become stronger before he got back so that she could surprise him. It was conceited to think that he would care, but she couldn't help herself from wanting it.

"Hinata? Are you listening?" Kiba's voice broke through the cloud of her thoughts. She jumped a little blushed, embarrassed by her rudeness.

"I—I'm sorry Kiba. I was just thinking."

Kiba turned away from his bowl of half eaten ramen and gave her a reassuring smile. "You're worried about the results of the exam aren't you? It'll be fine, trust me. You did great."

"Yeah…" she said gently.

"Are you sure that's all that's wrong?" Kiba asked with a hint of worry. "I mean, you haven't touched your food. And…well, you seem to be a little down lately."

Hinata let her smile fade. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just not hungry." She pushed her bowl away.

"You sure?"

"Yes. I think maybe I'm a little tired, too. Maybe I should just go home."

Kiba looked more concerned than ever about then, but he let her leave without any further questions. Hinata felt relived not to have to put on an act any more. She walked home silently, more absorbed in her thoughts than before. If she became a chunin then she'd be that much closer to Naruto, but then what? Naruto was so much stronger than she was, and probably much stronger than most of the village. He was, after all, being trained by Jiraiya, one of the most skilled shinobi in Konoha. He'd come back stronger than ever and the gap between would be even harder for her to close. Would she ever be able to catch up to him? And if she ever did catch up, would it help? Would Naruto be able to fill the void inside of her, the one that had come from years of torment by her disapproving father and her inadequacy as a ninja in her youth? A void that had only gotten worse when he'd left.

Before Naruto left to train with Jiraiya she'd felt the emptiness—it had always been there—but Naruto had provided her with a certain numbness, it didn't hurt nearly as much when he was close to her. And because of this she wanted to be closer to him. But she wasn't deluding herself anymore. By now she had realized that when Naruto came back there was no chance that he was going to pay any more attention to her than he had before he left. By hoping that he would she was only torturing herself.

The sun was starting to set, signaling to Hinata that it was getting late. She squinted at the horizon where the sun was settling. If she didn't get home soon her father was going to kill her. She shuddered to think of how angry he would be if she got home later than he expected. She looked around to judge how much farther she had to walk before she got home and almost panicked. She had no idea where she was. She should have been paying attention to where she was going instead of brooding.

She looked around again, searching for anything familiar that would indicate her location. She didn't recognize anything but she did notice that there were no people around and that said something. It wasn't quite night time yet so there should have been at least someone lingering around outside. The evening time was usually the most crowded time on the streets of Konoha. But the road that she was standing on was empty and quite. The absence of people indicated that she'd probably wandered into an abandoned section of the village. A crisp breeze blew by that whipped her indigo hair around her face. She pulled her jacket closer to her body and looked around again, more carefully this time. That's when she noticed a wall covered in graffiti to the right of her. A familiar feeling came to her. She leaned a bit closer to it and noticed that it was a wall that was identical to the one that surrounded her own compound. She touched it gingerly. It was made of the same smooth clay material, too.

She kept her hand on it as she made her way around to the other side. Once she reached what she assumed was the front of the barrier, she looked up to see the faded kanji that was painted above the gates. She could just barely make out the strokes beneath the wild tangle of ivy that had grown over most of the front of the wall. Uchiha. This was the Uchiha compound. Hinata looked down at the gap between the two heavy doors. As far as she knew, the compound was supposed to be locked. No one had been in or out since Sasuke left. So why was it unlocked?

Curiosity got the better of her. She slid easily through the gap in doors and headed into the dead compound. It was even colder within the walls than it was outside of them. Hinata shivered and pulled her jacket even tighter before she glanced around.She was starting to get a bad feeling. The air seemed to be getting colder for some reason causing her to feel like she was being smothered in icy smoke. She shouldn't have come here. She spun back around and started to run towards the front gates. But before she could get far she slammed hard into something in her path. She stumbled and threw her hands out in front to steady herself. She felt something soft against her palms but it was too dark to see what it was. Then she felt something encase her waist. Something warm.

"What do we have here?" a deep and unfamiliar voice whispered into her hair.

Hinata crammed her eyes shut, to afraid to react any other way. She was trying to think like a shinobi, trying to assess the situation clearly like any capable ninja would. But she couldn't make her mind work correctly. There was only one thought running through her head as she trembled in this strangers arms. She was going to be killed.

"You don't need to be afraid. I'm not going to kill you unless you give me a reason." He laid a warm hand on her head.

She willed herself to look up at him, peeking very timidly through her bangs. She gasped. Her heart seized up so violently and sporadically in her chest that for a second she thought that she might die. He was gorgeous. He had sharingan eyes. He was beautiful. He was sinister and evil. He was holding her so closely. He was a criminal. He was a cold blooded killer. And he was smiling at her.

Itachi.

At first she couldn't do anything but stare at his eyes. They were lethal and terrifying yet they were so pretty at the same time. She couldn't make herself look away from them though she knew that she should. It was dangerous to look so willingly into the eyes of a sharingan wielder, especially this particular sharingan wielder. But she couldn't help herself.

After what seemed like forever she shook her head hard. She was in the arms of the infamous Uchiha Itachi, the enemy of Konoha that had destroyed his clan and abandoned the village, and the only thing that was running through her mind was how terrifyingly beautiful his eyes were. She questioned her own sanity for not feeling any fear. Anyone else in her situation certainly would have.

She started to pull away but suddenly stopped. Everything else was just so cold. Another freezing breeze blew past her face making her cough. Involuntarily, she fell back into him, burying her face in his cloak. He was so warm.

Itachi pulled his hand down through her hair.

"Come on. You got what you needed, right? Let's go already!" another voice called sounding annoyed. Hinata jumped at the sound.

"It looks like I'm not going to kill you," he whispered softly. He brushed her hair again briefly and then disappeared and Hinata was alone. She spun around quickly, searching the compound with her eyes, but Itachi was nowhere to be found. A sinking desperation settled in her chest, but she didn't understand it. How could she be _sad_ that a man who was speaking so openly about murdering her had spared her life and was now gone? And, on that matter, what she didn't understand even more was why she wasn't afraid. Even when he was holding her so close to him she couldn't feel any kind of fear, all she could feel was that warmth. She rubbed her shoulders trying to ward off the cold that was creeping back on her.

She looked up at the black and starless sky. It was very late now. She sucked in a breath. Itachi hadn't killed her but her father most certainly would, and if a cold-blooded murderer didn't strike fear in her, Hiashi defiantly did.

….


	2. Dust

Chapter Two: Dust

Hinata stood timidly before the gates of the Hyuuga compound. She looked up at the black sky. It was nearly midnight already; she was far beyond what her father would classify as late. However, it had only been around nine when she'd stumbled across the abandoned Uchiha compound. But she'd spent so much time after subconsciously searching for Itachi that she hadn't noticed the hours go by. She found it odd how she couldn't seem to let it go. Let _him _go. She didn't understand why she couldn't simply forget about the encounter. It was hardly something to obsess over. Itachi was a criminal, a fugitive. Instead of trying to find out where he had gone, she should have been busy heading to the Hokage's office to report his mysterious and unannounced appearance in the village. It could very well be dangerous for the village if the Hokage didn't know that an Akatsuki member had infiltrated its walls. And not just any Akatsuki, but one with a motive against Konoha.

But the thought of going up to Lady Fifth's desk and letting the words that Uchiha Itachi had returned to Konoha leave her lips made her feel nauseous. It was a selfish logic, so much so that she was ashamed for thinking it, but she was more afraid of getting Itachi into trouble than she was of endangering the village. It was a lot to say for a person whom she barely knew, but she couldn't ignore the feeling in her gut that ordered her to keep her mouth shut. There was no chance that Lady Fifth would ignore the situation if Hinata told her about Itachi. Not only had he come back to Konoha, the village he abandoned, but he had, by no fault of his own, run into Hinata. She'd surely go after him with murder in her heart.

Hinata bit her lip securely between her teeth and pulled open the front gates. They creaked on their hinges and opened with a loud and slow groan. A light went on in the front room of the central main house. Her house. Apparently her father had been waiting for her to arrive home. She swallowed hard at that thought. Hiashi was not a gentle man by anybody's standards. Many of the villagers spoke often of his bad temper and harsh ways, but were careful not to say so in the earshot of any of the Hyuuga elders or, more dangerously, of Hiashi himself. Whenever Hinata happened upon a conversation like that the gossipers would quickly stop their conversation to stare at her with pity filled eyes.

Hinata hesitated before the door to her house. Her father was certainly going to be furious with her, she knew it. She winced in remembrance and ran her fingers across the long scar on her neck. It had been inflicted on her a year ago, the last time her father had lost his temper.

The door opened from the other side by Hiashi. Except he didn't look like himself. He was wearing an ivory colored kimono that wasn't wrapped as tightly around his chest as it should have been. His hair was slightly tousled and his eyes were bloodshot red. His appearance took Hinata by surprise. Hiashi was never disheveled. Even when he was alone in the privacy of his own home, he was always dressed properly.

"Hinata," he said in a low voice. She flinched backward before she realized, with slight wonder, that he didn't sound angry at all. His gruff voice was completely calm and even held a trace of relief. "Where have you been?"

"I—I got lost. I mean, I sort of wandered…" she let her voice trail off. Hiashi's eyes droop tiredly.

"It's midnight." He said. He looked briefly at the sky as if she should have noticed this.

"I know. I'm sorry. I—"

"Inside."

"Y—Yes sir." She was glad that he wasn't angry with her but something was defiantly wrong with him. His unvoiced dilemma made Hinata feel an uncomfortable, nagging worry in her stomach. She was his daughter, and though she had never had the kind of relationship with him that she imagined other daughters had with their fathers, she still worried greatly about him from time to time. Nevertheless, Hiashi was stoic as ice; he barely showed enough emotion for a person to tell if cause for worry was necessary. Besides, he would never let his daughters know of any of his problems. In a way, he was very much like any other father in that he cared deeply for his daughters. He may have shown this quiet love much differently, but it was there all the same. And Hinata felt it. It pained her to see her father burdened the way she could tell he was now. She wanted to help him, to ease his suffering. But in addition to being serious and distant, Hiashi was also proud. He'd never admit that he was burdened by anything to anyone, even if it meant endangering his life. Hinata hoped that wasn't the case now.

She balled up her emotions and hurried upstairs to her bedroom.

Itachi and Kisame had to stop and rest for the night in one of the provinces that laid between Konoha and the Mist. Kisame hadn't been too thrilled about the extra delay, which would bring the days that they were set back up to six, but he didn't bother to argue his point that they should head down a little further before stopping. Itachi wasn't in the mood to be talked to. He could tell

So—to Kisame's silent dismay—they checked into yet another inn. This one was slightly nicer than the last. Kisame wasn't surprised. Obviously, a hotel that was located between two thriving countries would be more appealing than one located between a country that did okay economic wise and a wasteland.

A very pretty woman in a green kimono, who introduced herself as the owner of the large traditional-style inn, gave them their room keys. Her pale blue eyes that reminded Kisame of an icy lake in winter lingered on Itachi. She blushed when he turned towards her and looked down at her hands. Kisame wasn't surprised. This ridiculous behavior that woman often succumbed to in the presence of his partner wasn't anything new to him. He snatched up the keys with annoyance and marched up the stairs behind the still blushing woman. After he'd already made it up two long curving flights he realized that Itachi was nowhere to be found. Muttering profanities to himself, Kisame started back down the stairs to the lobby. He stopped mid-step when he heard voices below him. He situated himself strained to listen in on the vigorous conversation that was going on below.

"But, I don't understand," a soft female voice said frantically. It must have been the owner. Kisame secretly resented the fact that women always flocked after Itachi like desperate dogs. Even her voice was pretty.

"It's nothing personal, of course." Itachi's voice answered evenly. It didn't take much for Kisame to decode the conversation that had proceeded. He was turning her down. Again, typical. Another thing that he resented about his partner was how no matter how beautiful the girls, Itachi always declined their advances. Kisame didn't understand why he didn't ever indulge in female company, even for a brief night. He always had an excuse. Sometimes he didn't bother with an explanation and simply told them coldly he wasn't interested.

"Then…then is there someone else?" she asked with disappointment. She sounded like she was going to break down into tears. Kisame rolled his eyes. This was another famous question in the I-want-Itachi-but-he-doesn't-want-me conversation. He expected Itachi to answer quickly like he usually did, eager to end the conversation, but he didn't. In fact, he actually hesitated. Kisame almost fell over.

"There is, isn't there!" she wailed, all of the attractiveness gone from her voice.

There was a long lingering silence in which everything changed. The girl didn't notice, and he doubted that Itachi himself even noticed, but _everything_ changed in that long silence. Kisame felt it. He could feel the foundation of everything he thought he knew about Itachi, all the parts of the life that he'd come to accept being shaken to a crumble. To dust. "I'm sorry," Itachi said a while after.

Kisame heard him step around the now sobbing girl and start up the stairs. It took him a while to register that he should be starting back up to the room before Itachi came across him eavesdropping. He backtracked up the remainder of steps and unlocked the room. The inside was well furnished with expensive-looking antique furniture and oriental curtains. Itachi arrived without a word and headed straight for the window, pulling aside the drapery to look out into the night. Kisame sighed and went over to his own room. It wasn't until the next morning, after Itachi suggested that they stay another night, that he realized bitterly, that they weren't going to make it back to the Lair.

He knew that she wasn't being honest with him. Hinata averted her eyes from Kiba's accusing gaze. He'd asked her why she seemed so distracted once they'd met up for their regular training with Kurenai-sensei the next morning. She'd stammered a semi-coherent response about being worried about the chunin exam results. But Kiba just gave her a steady glare that told her he didn't believe it. So Hinata chose to stare at the grass glazed in morning dew beneath her sandals, rather than meet her teammate's unsatisfied scowl.

Luckily, Kurenai began the session soon after, freeing her of any further scrutiny. But even while she was training, she could feel Kiba's gaze on her. A flare-up of self-consciousness grabbed at her, but she shook it away and tried to pay attention to her sparring match with Shino. All the while Kiba's gaze remained fixed on her from his spectator spot in a nearby tree. Usually training only lasted from a little after dawn until noon, but it seemed to drag on and on to Hinata. When it was finally over, she didn't waste anytime leaving. She wasn't ready to face anymore of Kiba's questions.

Originally, she'd planned on going straight home after practice. Her father may have been oddly aloof before, but he could be back to his old strict self at the crack of whip. But for some reason she found herself headed back in the direction of the abandoned part of Konoha. She told herself that she should stop. Even if the gates were still unlocked and she managed to sneak in again, there was no chance that he would be there again. And if he was, it shouldn't have been something she wanted. She knew these facts all too well. She'd thought about them nonstop since the previous night. Still, she couldn't stop herself from sticking her hand in between the partly open gates and sliding between them.

Once she was inside the enclosure, the temperature instantly fell ten degrees. It was still daytime; the temperature drop wasn't enough to send her shivering the way it had last night, but she shuddered with nervousness despite herself. Hinata wasn't a rule breaker. She didn't want to spend any more time inside of a forbidden area of the village than she felt she needed to. She immediately began exploring the eerie, inhospitable surroundings. The forgotten houses gaped at her, their windows black and empty, doors hanging askew from their hinges as if dead. As she moved by each one of the dormant buildings, she peered within, looking for nothing in particular. Some floors were caked with sand and dust blown in with no one to sweep them clean. Others, those whose doors were left closed, were perfect. The floors were clean, the tables straight and matriculate. Not a single thing was out of place, but somehow it was this perfection that made these houses all the more foreboding. The cleanliness made the blood stand out too much.

Hinata tore her eyes away from the crimson walls and looked to her left. Stands from once busy shop streets were left untouched. None of them were broken. They all stood fixed and ready for business. It was impossible not to picture the people who used to own these stands. Hinata imagined that they must have been happy. She pictured them smiling, laughing at the children who ran under the stands as they played.

The thought of children made Hinata's heart pull. They had been many Uchiha children before that day. She didn't recall any who were old enough to attend the academy save fore Sasuke. But, she always saw them around the village, their dark hair, and eyes indicative of their clan. And she remembered their high-pitched laughter well, as it used to float up from within the walls of the compound. But it was silent now, the phantom of their laughter carried away in the whisper of the wind.

Her feet stopped moving. She looked at the house she was standing in front of. The kanji above the mail slot read Uchiha Fugaku, Sasuke's father. This was Itachi and Sasuke's old home. Now their homes were elsewhere. The building where their family was once intact and together, where they had once been alive and content, no longer existed. The house that stood before her now was just a shack, void of any signs that love was once harbored within its walls. She pressed her fingers together, torn. She wanted to go inside, but she was afraid of what she might see. She imagined that the scene in this house might be more gruesome than those in all the others. Did Itachi harbor more hostility towards his parents than he did his other clansmen? If so, he may have murdered them more brutally and viciously out of mere spite. She eyed the doorframe for any signs of what was to come when she stepped inside. It was intact. Swallowing her hesitation, she placed one foot carefully into the darkness.

She clasped her hand tighter in front of herself, summoning courage, and drew the other foot inside as well. It was difficult to see very far, but she was still able to make her way deep into the interior. Along the walls, she didn't find any blood as she had feared. Instead, she found pictures. She stopped when she came across a cluster of dusty frames that held photographs. The pictures themselves were barely visible under all of the dust that had collected on the memories. She gingerly wiped away the accumulation and peered hard at the glass. This one was of Fugaku; his hard features and rigid demeanor reminded her strongly of her own father, but something in his eyes spoke of softness beneath.

She moved on to the next. This one was of Sasuke when he was much younger. He looked only about four or five at the most. It was strange to se the boy who she knew took pride in his job of being the estranged, serious one look so…happy. She wondered if she could recall a time when she hadn't seen Sasuke look angrily indifferent. She glanced over at the next picture; this one of Itachi and Sasuke collectively. Hinata caught her breath as she stared, disbelievingly, at the impossible scene in front of her eyes. She—like most other people in the village who were privy to Sasuke's secret plans for his brother—assumed that Itachi had never got along with his younger sibling. But the picture that hung on the wall before her said different. Sasuke was staring up at Itachi with a longing on his face that she could only call adoration. And Itachi didn't look scary or mean. He looked gentle, a word that she would have never formerly associated with him.

With a new found comfort, Hinata stepped away from the pictures and walked further down into the hall. Something caught her eye in the shadows. She leaned closer to the wall, noticing now that it was actually a door. Only, the paper screen that made up its surface was torn. A huge, wound-like gash had been forged into the exterior. The wood on its edge was splintered as well, the dark material breaking outward like needles. Fear flared up within her again. Something had obviously happened here. She pulled the screen slowly aside and screamed.

She whirled around, away from the gore that was making her stomach lurch. That's when she started running. Itachi was a monster. A demon. She couldn't believe that she'd allowed herself to think any different of him. He was a murderous fiend who had killed his own family in cold blood. Blood that still stained the floor of their room like fallen paint. She should have been angry and scared. She should have been outraged. But for some reason, she was crying. Tears hit the ground like rain. And they weren't even for the family that had met an end at the hands of cruelty, or the children, equally as innocent, who had also perished. No. Her tears were for Itachi. The logic of which even she could not understand. She was still confused when she bumped, head first, into Kiba at the entrance. He had a look of knowing on his face.

"We need to talk."

….


	3. Knowing

Chapter 3: Knowing

Despite the fact that Kiba was her friend, Hinata was still uneasy. She followed him in silence as he led her to his home on the opposite side of Konoha. They weaved easily through the crowd of afternoon street dwellers, both remaining silent. Was he angry with her? He didn't look angry. His face was unwaveringly neutral, unreadable. Hinata chewed her lip contemplatively, interpreting his attitude. Kiba was almost never quite. What did that mean? Was he going to turn her in? She _had, _after all, been breaking the law. She racked her brain quickly to try to remember what the penalty for trespassing was.

"I know what's going on with you," he said suddenly.

Hinata looked up from her hands. She could feel her heart skip a beat, a frightening act that made her gulp. "What?"

They were alone now. They were out of the crowed city center and had entered one of the suburban areas that lay around the village. Kiba reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Hinata tried not to hyperventilate as he pushed open the door and ushered her inside.

Inside of Kiba's home was very nice. There weren't any expensively outfitted great-rooms or indoor training areas like there were in her own home. Everything was plain; the purpose for every piece was evident. Yet that's what made it so much nicer than her home. Because things were so straightforward, it had a much more family-like feeling floating about. She noticed it as she followed Kiba up a wooden flight of stairs that led to a second floor. Hinata was in reverence. She was so use to the unnecessary extravagance of the Hyuuga compound that she'd forgotten that loveliness was achieved in much simpler ways.

Kiba pushed open another door that opened into a darkly painted room that she guessed must belong to him. Hinata was rarely invited to other people's houses. And on the sparse occasions that she was, she was almost never allowed to go. Her father had a problem with her associating with what he himself viewed as lower rank shinobi. He tolerated her companionship with her comrades on her team, but she could tell even this was a chore for him.

Kiba ushered for her to sit on his bed while he pulled out a chair from under his desk for himself. He studied her silently as she sat nervously on the edge of the mattress and folded her hands in her lap. Her heart was still thudding wildly inside her chest, but she willed herself to remain calm. If Kiba knew about Itachi she would be in enormous trouble, no only with him, but with the Hokage and all the other jonin who trusted their students to be vigil and to alert them to any potential danger. The genin and chunin shared the responsibility of protecting the village. It wouldn't go over well if any of the village heads uncovered that she had been keeping crucial secrets from intelligence. But it wasn't as if Hinata wanted to put her village in peril. If it were not for that disturbing emotion in her stomach that took hold of her whenever she considered voicing her discovery of Akatsuki within Konoha walls, she would have long attended to her responsibilities as a shinobi and told. But she didn't want to compromise Itachi's safety either, whether or not it was logical or not for her to feel that way.

Kiba didn't speak for a while, and Hinata grew more worried with each second of anxious silence, but then he looked at her suddenly, animal eyes penetrating, and said fiercely, "What's the problem? I don't understand."

Hinata rubbed the edge of her shirt between her thumbs forefingers and looked out the window instead of at Kiba. Only a few people passed by on the streets below. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you think I'm stupid?" he didn't ask this with malice, but mockingly. "I can tell that you've been acting even more nervous than usual. And what are you doing lurking around the Uchiha compound? Breaking rules is so unlike you."

Hinata continued to stare out the window; it was much easier for her to diverge from the truth when she wasn't looking into Kiba's questioning face. Not that averting her eyes helped much. She was still a terrible liar. Her voice trembled over the words, "Um…nothing, I just—"

But Kiba was becoming annoyed. His voice was unforgiving. "Stop it. What are you doing, Hinata? You of all people, to become involved in something so dangerous. With _someone_ so dangerous."

Hinata let her eyes fall. "How did you know?" she said in a small voice.

Kiba sat back and crossed his arms. "You were acting weird so, being the concerned person I _am_, I followed you yesterday to see if you were really okay. But then of course you started to wander so I assumed there was something wrong. I was going to call you but then you went through the Uchiha gates and I didn't know what to think at that point."

"You thought I was doing something illegal?"

"You _were_ doing something illegal by disobeying the village law to stay out of there. And then what am I suppose to think when Itachi and Kisame come out of there not five minutes after you go in?"

Hinata dropped the fabric of her shirt from her hands. She stared at Kiba, shocked at what he was implying. "You think that I'm working with Itachi-sama and Kisame-san?"

Now it was Kiba's turn to gaze vacantly out the window and say nothing. However, the long hush that followed confirmed her question. "I would never do that." Hinata stated quietly but firmly with the confidence of an innocent person on trial. "I'm not a traitor, Kiba. You know I'd never betray the village."

"I thought that at first." He said, finally looking at her again. "But it didn't fit. You betraying us for Akatsuki was just about the most unlikely possibility out there. I figured it must have been a coincidence, you and them showing up at the same time. And your nervous behavior, I assumed, was from being shaken up from running into them. I was convinced of that until you went back there today." He narrowed his eyes. "Then there's your attitude; the blushing, the stammering, tripping over yourself in thought, the way you act around Naruto usually. But the thought that…_that_…could be a possibility, I just laughed."

Hinata could feel herself blushing now. What Kiba was hinting at was a prospect she hadn't even been strong enough to consider herself. She didn't want to think about such things. It was improper and unprincipled especially since it was _Itachi_…Itachi the vicious fiend, criminal, the man with the dangerous…captive eyes…what was she thinking? She couldn't put a mind to thoughts like this. Thoughts about Itachi and his warmth and his eyes…she shook her head to free herself of the memory of him and how much she wanted to be touching him again, to feel how warm he was.

"So I guess I have nothing to worry about?" Kiba asked.

Hinata still did not look up, she was having a hard time composing her face, but she nodded.

Kiba let her leave then, and though he didn't question her any further, Hinata still felt as if he were unconvinced. The tone of his voice was too rigid, his face too serious. Seriousness for Kiba was a signal of anything other than calm. His upbeat disposition was rarely disturbed, but when it was, it was by bad news of death or war; if he was caught in the heart of a battle, forced to focus and still his mind in order to do his job properly. The suspicion Hinata observed on Kiba's face now was a mirror of the unreadable, stoic mask he donned whenever a deadly mission had to be carried out. She knew he wasn't prepared to let this go—not now—not until he knew what the true answer to his question was. Because if there was one thing that Hinata knew for certain about her partner, it was that when it came to a matter such as this, a matter of importance to the safety to the village and to her, Kiba wasn't one to give up until the bitter end.

* * *

Kisame was bored.

He once again tossed the silver ball up into the air, caught it. He tossed it again in a more complex fashion, caught it, and repeated. He was fighting to keep from sighing, knowing that such an action would anger Itachi, but he made several mental notes of how uneventful the past two weeks had been. Being stuck in a hotel room, no matter how fancy, was just so painfully dreary. Kisame frowned and tossed the ball again when he thought of how comfortable Itachi seemed to be throughout the stay. He looked over at him where he sat by the window, as always, looking out at nothing, saying nothing, and rarely moving at all.

Kisame rolled his eyes and threw the ball again, with a spin this time so it crested the ceiling before he caught it. He hadn't asked Itachi what they were doing there because he assumed Itachi simply wouldn't answer, or worse, the explanation would be something _ridiculous_ and _irritating_ and he would be _stuck_ tagging along on some fruitless expedition for Itachi's sake.

For now Kisame was fine with not knowing. If it did turn out to be something like he was thinking, he wanted to remain in this unaware state for as long as he was able. He turned the ball's shiny cold surface between his fingers before he threw it upward again.

"Kisame," Itachi said softly, so softly that if he hadn't been deftly silent for so long before, Kisame may not have heard him.

"What?" He replied and tossed the ball absently from one hand to the other.

Itachi shifted slightly and rested his chin in his hand, gleaming red eyes half closed, still staring out at nothing. "That girl, the one we saw back in Konoha."

Kisame missed catching the ball again and the two-hundred pound weight of it fell hard on his chest. "What?" He could barely believe what he was hearing. Itachi, unwavering and unemotional Itachi, the man with every emotion but those of empathy and care, was asking him about _a_ _girl_?

But Itachi didn't notice Kisame's disbelief. "She was a Hyuuga, I believe."

"Yeah," Kisame said slowly, sitting up and rubbing his chest. "She had those eyes so she must have been."

Itachi nodded. "I wonder what she was doing there."

Kisame shrugged and rubbed his chest again, feeling the full effect of the injury from the weighted ball now that his shock was fading. "Snooping around." He said matter-o-factly.

Itachi smirked slightly but immediately became serious again. "Yeah, I suppose. But it seemed as if she was looking for something."

Kisame shrugged again, though Itachi wasn't looking at him. He was still staring out the window. "She might have been. I mean, you were." Kisame said in reference to the item Itachi had returned to Konoha to retrieve. He chuckled then. "Though I doubt you were looking for the same thing. What use would a little girl have fore such a thing?"

Itachi's expression didn't waver. "She's a shinobi. She'd have as much use for it as I would."

Kisame's humor vanished. "She couldn't have been a _good _shinobi. She didn't even fight when you touched her. And she was shaking."

"She was cold." Itachi's voice was gentle and his eyes sparked with something unspoken.

Kisame raised an eyebrow, but changed the subject. "Anyway, I hope Konoha isn't on high alert. She's sure to have told someone by now."

Itachi narrowed his eyes further. "I doubt it."

"Why? Did you put a genjutsu on her?"

"No…she appeared…entranced by me. I'm not sure why exactly, but it doesn't seem like she'd be so eager to report we were there."

Kisame sighed, no longer caring about what Itachi thought. His patients for his partner's mysterious evasions and half answers had all but drizzled out. Usually, he had much more tolerance for Itachi's cryptic nature, but lately, with Itachi's increasingly mystifying attitude and equally unexplained actions, actions—that unfortunately included Kisame whether he liked it or not—he'd grown irritated.

"Whatever," he muttered to himself and picked up the ball once more.

But Itachi responded as if there had bee no lapse in the conversation at all. "She was a main branch member."

Kisame didn't respond. He just grumbled and cycled the ball through the air in a circular path, making it steadily increase in speed to the point where it was simply a nearly invisible vibration in the air.

"She had no mark," Itachi continued. "And she bares a strong resemblance to _that woman. _Perhaps she's her daughter."

"Perhaps."

"She was pretty…no beautiful." Itachi remarked.

Kisame's breath hitched. He hadn't even really noticed the violet haired girl that way, but now that he thought of her, he supposed she could have been attractive. Personally he'd seen better, but even the most gorgeous of women seemed to have no influence on Itachi. Whatever drew him to this girl who didn't seem like anything above a shuddering, weak excuse for a kunoichi, he had no idea. He doubted it would make any sense.

"I wonder if she'd be as entranced a second time…" Itachi said in a low whisper.

Kisame gripped the ball hard beneath his fingers, sharp pain sparking over his skin. "There won't be a second time." His words were tight, but he knew they held no value. Not for Itachi.

"I want to see her again." The words were like a shift in a relentless wind. A change in the direction of an endless death march. A new flower breaking through the cold frost of winter, blooming out of season and in the wrong area. A blossom that had no business whatsoever being there, a random burst of color in unyielding white. A remark that was so random yet completely expected. A remark that had no real meaning, like a proclamation of death would, but was just as devastating. His words were pure devastation.

But Kisame was calm. "You want to see her?" it wasn't a question, but a request for explanation.

Itachi's eyes, usually dull red and solid, now looked as if the irises were composed of rubies. There was something unearthly there that hadn't been before. Something born from his decision that was appallingly wrong yet unquestionably right. "I need to see her. I have to."

Kisame sighed. "Might I ask why?"

Itachi's gaze was still unbreakably glued to the windowpane. "Because that's what I need. I need her."

"How do you derive that? Why is it her that you need?" Kisame was now genuinely curious. Itachi did not know this girl. For her to have such a grand control over him, whether she knew of her influences or not, wasn't logical.

Itachi's gaze fell, a look that would have been dejected if it weren't Itachi doing it. "I felt something. Something like wholeness. You would not comprehend Kisame. I don't expect you to. You understand so little. I do not claim to understand any more than you, but of these things in particular, things of misery and agony, I know most. Misery and agony that have consumed what was left of my will to care or feel above indifference. She ridded me of those things. It makes no clear sense, but it doesn't have to. Nothing has to make sense for those on the receiving end. It just has to be."

Kisame stared at his partner with new vision. This was something he never thought he would see if he lived to meet the end of the world. Itachi unmasked. The sight of the stoic Uchiha's exposed emotions was…unnerving. Like seeing the inner gears of a clock. A device so mechanical and controlled. To look within and see the gears struggling, to watch them creak with uncertainty as the churned around without destination, it was unsettling.

"I need her, Kisame. But I suppose you cannot understand because you know nothing of what it is like to be no longer whole. To have a part of your being torn away by the claws of fate and everlasting destiny….anyway, I speak in riddles. You probably don't even comprehend my words now."

But the problem was that Kisame did understand. He understood all too well. Itachi's soul baring was getting more and more disturbing by the second. "So I'm guessing you want us to go back to Konoha." He asked already knowing the answer.

Itachi said nothing. For a moment the only conversation was supplied by the ticking of the grandfather clock at the far end of the room. The suddenly, there was his answer.

"Yes. Today."

Kisame sighed again. There was, without the faintest shadow of a doubt, no question that the Itachi that sat in front of him now and the Itachi that had ruthlessly killed his clan were the not same person. They were identical, that was true enough, but this Itachi was merely a consequence of the other. In choosing a life of killing and bloodshed Itachi had subjected himself to these 'claws of fate' he referred to, and they had indeed raked at his inner being until there was only an armor of masks left. And now that Itachi remembered what it was like to be whole, a feeling he had long forgotten existed, there was no chance he would allow the opportunity to slip away. It was all too clear.

Kisame let the ball drop to the ground. Itachi had always been a shut book without a title or summary, nothing at all hinting to what lay trapped in the pages beneath. Now the book had fallen open, turning to random pages and letting the words that spoke of pain tell the story of his sentiments and angst. A tragedy. Kisame now had the knowledge inside the book, something that most likely no one else had. He didn't like knowing.

Itachi stood. His stance was tired and rigid all at once. "We should leave now."

"Fine," Kisame breathed. It wasn't only the obligation of partners that made him agree. In fact, he probably would have been better off going back to the Lair alone than to face the road Itachi had chosen. There was certainly not going to be a favorable ending to their escapade. Things of this genre, complicated and unrequited emotions, never ended well. It would have made more sense for him to have chosen to save himself from the consequences of his partner's decision by abandoning him. But there was more than raw obligation between the two. Kisame figured that if was going to be punished for anything—helping Itachi break the Akatsuki code or abandoning his partner—he'd rather he help Itachi. Then at least something good would come out of all this.

_If he falls in love with this girl._ Kisame thought bitterly as he stood. The concept was extremely unlikely, but Kisame had to consider it. Nothing was unlikely anymore. _We're all doomed. All and every one of us._

* * *

Hinata had returned home after leaving Kiba's. Her father greeted her in his usual way, a grunt of acknowledgement before returning to his prior engagement. She went to her room and fell down to her knees beside her bed to reach a searching hand underneath. She pulled out a locked box that she hadn't touched for years. Freeing the key from the chain around her neck, she unlocked the chest and pulled out a dusted leather book. She ran her fingers over the cover, disturbing the dust settled over the letters.

The Diary of Hyuuga Hinata.

Hinata sat on her mattress and stared at the black cover and the gold script words that gleamed from its center. Her mother had left her the diary in her death. It was strange considering how little Hinata knew of her. And to leave something like a diary was even stranger. She had never used it, much preferring to keep her thoughts in her brain where she thought they belonged. But now it seemed that her mind had reached its capacity.

She opened the cover to the first page. Blank white winked back at her. She pulled a pen from her desk and dated the top, knowing that what she was about to write would be shocking to whoever found it. But she couldn't worry about that now. She needed to vent her troubled soul before she exploded.

_Page 1. September the 12__th_

_Diary,_

_Confusion. That is my most pressing emotion at this point. I went into the Uchiha compound yesterday and again today. I'm not sure why, but I ran into Uchiha Itachi-sama there. I should have been afraid of him, I know. But all I could think about was how warm he was. He has such beautiful eyes. It's so crazy to be thinking, but it's nothing that's not of the truth. They're all rimmed with long lashes and he held me close enough that I could see them and how gentle they seemed even in the face of a killer._

_He did mention killing me. But he said he wouldn't hurt me if I didn't scream. I didn't. His arms were around my waist and his breath was in my hair and I don't even know what I should feel now. It's all so confusing._

_I haven't told Lady Fifth. I don't plan to. For some reason I want to protect him. Even after I saw all the blood spilt on his floors by his blade. I cried for him. I think he must be lonely, to live that way. Always killing. It's not my place to think such things, but I do._

_Again and again I have asked with no answer. Why do I care this way for him? It's deplorable. I don't know him. He's merely a memory of warmth in a time of cold. Perhaps that's why. He made me feel…warm. In a way that melts the ice inside me._

_These things are so strange to write. Though I'm not speaking them to a literal person, it feels as if I'm confessing my sins. How could it not be sinful to crave the company of a murderer? To sympathize with _him_ rather than with the people he killed? There's something wrong with me. I feel like I should be punished._

_Kiba is suspicious and though I know it's nothing but projection of insanity, I hope he doesn't hurt Itachi-sama, or tell Lady Fifth he's been to Konoha. I hope with all my sick heart. _

_-Hyuuga Hinata_

Hinata shut the cover without gratification and dropped the book back into its tin. It met the metal with a soft thud. She locked the box and her confessions inside and slid it back under her bed with shaking hands. If Hiashi ever found this he would have her throat. She placed a silent prayer over the lock, hoping it would never yield to anyone other than her.

She hated knowing her feelings were spilled somewhere, a mess waiting to be stumbled upon. But she did feel alleviated. The weight on her lungs the whole ordeal had fostered was lessened. But Itachi remained in her conscious mind throughout the rest of the day. A mirror of the mind of another who thought relentlessly of a blue haired girl and how the gap between himself and her was closing steadily with every empty heartbeat.

….


End file.
